Just Another Night at Freddy's: Night Four: Parental Supervision
by DeltaV
Summary: After dealing with the events of Night Three, night guard Mike Schmidt and his animatronic friends live's are finally starting to slow down. Until Mike's parents decide to visit Mike while he's on duty. Rated T for "when you're older" language, and future possible spookiness. PG-13.
1. Prologue

Prologue: Coping & Interesting News

Three days had passed since Mike was rehired, and for once, there wasn't much for the guard to do. Things were quiet. The guard spent most nights helping with random menial tasks the animatronics performed, as well as having casual conversation. Most of Mike's "chores," if you could call them that, consisted of either assisting Freddy in rearranging the restaurant or helping Chica in the kitchen.

Freddy kept him busy arranging chairs, tables, and after convincing Mike they were empty, the spare costumes Backstage. Chica, on the other hand, rarely made the guard do much of anything. She preferred to do most of the work, which was fine by Mike, considering that all he knew about cooking was where bread went in a sandwich. Most of his responsibilities consisted of handing random ingredients and cookware.

Bonnie never really had any chores, aside from assisting Freddy and Chica similar to Mike, so she and Mike spent most of their time just talking. After learning that the rabbit enjoyed to draw, Mike brought her a stack of paper and crayons to pass the time. He almost regretted it upon returning to his office and finding it plastered with drawings of himself and the other animatronics. Mike decided to tack a few them up on the same notice board they put guest drawings.

The only issue was Foxy, who hadn't so much as left Pirate's Cove since Mike's first night back. The others knew something was up, but whenever they would ask, Foxy would reply, "I'm fine," and continue to sulk.

Mike decided that tonight he would try and get to the bottom of it. As soon as midnight rolled around, the guard strode purposefully for the curtains of Pirate's Cove. Pushing them aside, he could barely make out Foxy sitting on his chest in the darkness. The fox looked up, and upon seeing Mike looked away. Mike pulled the curtains open further, and stepped inside.

"Hey Foxy," Mike greeted. Foxy raised his hand dismissively.

"What's up?" Mike asked, "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Foxy replied.

"You sure? You haven't left the Cove since my first day back," Mike reminded.

"I just… be likin' me solitude," Foxy lied.

"Oh really? You weren't shy last week," Mike said.

"I told ye all, I'm _fine,_" Foxy said firmly. Mike frowned. He had to get the fox to talk to him, to figure out what was wrong, and being gentle about it wasn't working. Mike decided to try a little bit of "tough love."

_On a large metal fox, with a hook, big teeth, and a temper. Brilliant, Schmidt, this plan's gonna get you killed,_ Mike thought. He decided it would be worth it if he could figure out what was wrong, and took a breath, before pushing Foxy off of the chest he used as a seat. The pirate crashed to the floor, and glared back at Mike.

"Wha' was that fer?" Foxy demanded.

"What's wrong with you?" Mike asked.

"Wha'?" Foxy asked, confused.

"I said, _what's wrong with you!?_ Huh? What's your problem!?" Mike shouted.

"Wha's gotten inta ye, lad?" Foxy asked, suddenly concerned Mike had lost it.

"Me? What about you? All you've done is mope around your cove!" Mike said.

"So?" Foxy asked.

"'So?' So what's wrong!? Is this about those kids?" Mike asked.

"I told ye! I'm fine! Get outta here before I keelhaul ya," Foxy threatened.

"Why won't you talk about it? Don't you care about those kids? Is that why you're ignoring it?" Mike asked. Foxy suddenly went silent, giving Mike a glare that could kill. The fox suddenly started growling, loudly, and stood up. Mike backed off.

_Oh shit, bad idea, BAD IDEA! _Mike thought, looking at the massive scowl starting to form on Foxy's face.

"Care? _Care!?_ I _loved 'em_ Mike! I loved 'em more than anythin'. Don' you think I regret everythin'? Don' you think I wished I hadn' gotten meself locked up?" Foxy demanded. He advanced towards the panicking guard.

"Now, hang on, Foxy, you're getting the wrong idea, I-," Mike stammered. Foxy grabbed the guard by his shirt, and hoisted him to eye level.

"_What idea am I s'posed to get!?_" Foxy screeched, eyes burning.

"That I just wanted you to talk about it!" Mike explained.

"Ye go' tha', lad!" Foxy exclaimed.

"Foxy, I'm sorry! I know you care, I _know_ you're upset! You were just hiding out, and I wanted to see what was wrong! You're taking this entirely the wrong way!" Mike apologized. Foxy's gaze softened, and he set the guard back on his feet, looking at the ground.

"I miss 'em, Mike," Foxy said, not looking up. Mike sighed in relief.

"I know you do, buddy, I know you do," Mike said gently.

"I'm never gonna see the kiddos again, am I?" Foxy asked sadly.

"You don't know that! If there's one thing I've learned working here, nothing ever happens like you think it will. Hell, look at me! Just a week ago, I thought you guys were gonna kill me, and I never dared to step out of that office. Now, all I do is walk around and talk to you guys. Stuff'll get better," Mike said. Foxy looked up.

"Ye think so?" Foxy asked.

"Sure!" Mike replied, "Why shouldn't it?"

"Promise?" Foxy asked.

"I promise," Mike said, "Now will you move on? There's no need to worry about it, okay?"

"Alrigh'" Foxy said, nodding, "I'll try."

"Good," Mike said, and was surprised when Foxy pulled Mike into an awkward one-armed hug.

"Thank ye, Mike," Foxy said.

"Can you let go? You're still…sharp," Mike asked, trying to push away from Foxy's exposed endoskeleton.

"Righ', sorry lad," Foxy apologized, and let go. Mike patted his arm.

"Feel better, okay?" Mike asked, and left.

A few hours later, Mike walked back into the security office, and saw Chica squeezed into his swivel chair, spinning herself around idly.

"Hey, Chica," Mike greeted.

"Hiya Mike," Chica replied.

"What's up?" Mike asked.

"I'm bored," Chica said.

"I can see that," Mike commented. Suddenly, the phone on the desk rang, and Chica reached for it.

"No, wait!" Mike said, reaching for it as well, but Chica grabbed it first, hitting the button.

"Hello?" Chica asked, phone still set on speaker.

"Mikey?" a woman's voice asked.

"_Mom!?_" Mike exclaimed.

"Mikey?" the woman asked again.

"Why are you calling me? Aren't you on vacation? It's really late!" Mike told her.

"We just got back today! We're still on vacation time, so it's not late for us!" Mrs. Schmidt said.

"But why are you calling me?" Mike asked, confused.

"Well, your father wanted it to be a surprise, but…" Mrs. Schmidt began.

"But?" Chica asked.

"Who's that, Mike?" Mrs. Schmidt asked.

"Coworker," Mike answered quickly, "_But?_"

"Well, we're going to visit you at work tomorrow!" Mrs. Schmidt said excitedly.

"_What!?_" Mike asked, "No, no, you don't have to do that, my shift starts at midnight, that's way too late for you guys."

"We've been on our vacation for nearly a month, Mikey, we want to see you!" Mrs. Schmidt said.

"A month? Wow," Chica commented.

"We had been saving our whole marriage," Mrs. Schmidt said proudly.

"Right, right, but, seriously, you guys don't have to do that," Mike argued.

"Oh come on, dear, we'll be there a few minutes after your shift starts so you can prepare, okay? Be lucky I gave you warning!" Mrs. Schmidt explained.

"No, no, Mom, wait!" Mike said.

"See you tomorrow, Mikey!" Mrs. Schmidt said, and hung up. Mike sat in stunned silence, and Chica started sniggering.

"_Mikey?_" Chica asked, laughing.

"Shut up," Mike shot back, and ran a hand through his hair, blowing air out through pursed lips.

"Oh man, I don't know what to do about this," Mike admitted.

"Let's just say hi. What's the worst that could happen?" Chica said.

"Caleb's mom, those cops, take your pick," Mike pointed out.

"Fair enough," Chica replied. A tapping noise sounded from behind Mike. He turned around, and saw Freddy standing in the doorway.

"Hello Michael, Chica, what are you up to?" the bear asked.

"Mike's parents are visiting here tomorrow," Chica said. Mike nodded.

"Oh, that's nice, I hope they enjoy our show," Freddy said.

"No, no, they're coming during my shift," Mike explained. Freddy arched his brow in surprise.

"That's… interesting. Do they know about us?" Freddy asked.

"Not how you mean. They know you exist. They used to take me here, remember?" Mike said.

"Oh, yes, I remember. But not about…" Freddy gestured to himself.

"No. Not your sentience. They never really watched you guys walk around," Mike explained.

"Ah… So… What's the plan?" Freddy asked.

"I don't know," Mike admitted, "I was hoping to ask you guys."

"Maybe we should just tell the truth," Freddy said, "Every time we've tried to blend in, things only got worse."

"That's true," Mike agreed.

"Then let's just do that," Chica said, "It would be nice, and besides, they're your parents. You can trust them."

"Alright, fine, but we're gonna take it slow, okay?" Mike said, "One at a time, baby steps."

"I guess that will work. I'll inform the others," Freddy announced, and walked off.

"Hey, how's the fox doing?" Chica asked.

"Better, I guess. Saw him walking around earlier, so that's good," Mike said. Suddenly, loud metal footsteps could be heard clanking down the hall, and Foxy stuck his head through the doorway.

"Yer parent's are comin'!?" Foxy asked, excited.

"Yes…" Mike answered, confused at Foxy's sudden excitement.

"And we don' have ta hide?" Foxy continued, stepping further through the door.

"Yes," Mike again answered, wondering where this was headed.

"Ha ha, finally!" Foxy cried, breaking into a little jig, "I get ta interact again!" With that, Foxy sped off back into Pirate's Cove.

"Well, he's excited," Chica said.

"That's what worries me. I hope he keeps it together," Mike told the chicken. Bonnie appeared in the doorway.

"I can't wait to meet your parents, Mike!" Bonnie said.

"Yeah. Great." Mike replied flatly.

"I bet they're _really_ nice! Oh, I should draw for them!" Bonnie said happily, "Can I?"

"Knock yourself out," Mike said dismissively. Bonnie smiled widely, and left. Chica turned to Mike.

"Sounds like they're gonna be ready for 'em," she said.

"I'm more worried about the other way around," Mike said, and leaned against the desk.

_**A/N: Hello again, everyone! It's finally here, Night Four, and since we dealt with the animatronics being outside the restaurant last time, I figured it was time for something in the pizzeria. I didn't want it to be too serious after bringing in law enforcement, so I decided to bring in Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt. Hasn't really been done, and I'm excited to see where this goes. Secret project is going great, and my life is finally slowing back down so I can be free to do sweet F. A. And write, more importantly. You know, not a lot of people make it to Night Four, so you're doing great. See you on the flip side. –DeltaV, "See What I Did There, Like I Was Phone Gu- Nevermind."**_


	2. Chapter One

Chapter 1: Hello Mother, Hello Father

The next morning, Mike decided it would be best to check with Arianna, the manager, to clear his parent's visit with her. It wouldn't affect whether or not they came anyway, just whether or not Mike would be paying for it.

"Arianna, I wanted to ask you-," Mike started, walking into her office.

"No," she replied, not looking up from her paperwork.

"But I-," Mike began again, flustered.

"No," Arianna interrupted again, penciling in notes on a document.

"Alright, fine, it's on you then," Mike told her, and walked out of her office. Arianna watched him leave, and shook her head, returning to her paperwork.

"Yes, Schmidt, I'm sure it is," Arianna muttered to herself.

After his "conversation" with Arianna, Mike decided to swing by the security office. Knowing full well that his parents would be judging him, the guard began to clean up the mess that had accumulated. He never cared about cleaning it when he feared for his life, and even less when he feared for the animatronics' existence. But now, Mike scooped the pile of garbage off the desk and into the trash, before using the end of a broom to get rid of the cobwebs.

The odd pictures drawn by kids and faded poster were still tacked on the small corkboard on the wall, so Mike covered them up with some of the artwork Bonnie made, to help brighten the office a bit. Plus it had the potential of being a calming way to break the news.

Satisfied his office would pass his mother's inspection, he quickly slipped inside Pirate's Cove to have a few words with Foxy. The fox sat, powered down, on the treasure chest onstage, but Mike knew that he could still here and see what was going on. The guard sat down across from Foxy, making sure that he could be seen.

"Hey Foxy," Mike greeted, "So… Um… Listen, I know you're excited to meet my parents, but you got to keep yourself under control, okay? You're… scary. Just, be cool." Mike sat awkwardly for a moment, letting his words sink in, then rose up and left, heading home to try and get some sleep.

Several hours later, Mike was on the bus back to the pizzeria. He wanted to be early in order to prepare, but unfortunately didn't get the chance. In the parking lot, there were two cars, and the janitor was leaving in the other one. What was left was a small SUV, and Mike could make out two figures inside.

_Great, they're early,_ Mike thought unhappily as he walked up, but plastered a fake smile anyway. He tapped onto the driver side window, and his father looked at him, and smiled.

"Hey there, champ!" Mr. Schmidt exclaimed happily, and opened the door, "Surprised?" Mike nodded,

"Oh yeah, I'm surprised," Mike said honestly. Mrs. Schmidt walked around the front of the SUV, and hugged Mike.

"Mikey! It's so good to see you!" she said. Mike returned the hug awkwardly.

"You too, Mom," Mike replied. Mr. Schmidt put his hand on Mike's shoulder.

"Why don't you show inside? It's kinda chilly out," he said, and Mike nodded, leading the way to the front door.

After stepping through the main entrance, Mike was a little bit grateful his parents came early. That would give him time to give them the tour without worrying about Freddy or the others. It had been years, maybe even decades, since Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt had been to Freddy Fazbear's, and it showed.

"Kind of dingy, don't you think Mikey?" Mrs. Schmidt commented, wrinkling her nose.

"A little. This place's been having a hard time," Mike agreed. Mr. Schmidt nodded.

"After those murders, and that animatronic attacking that man? I'd certainly think so," Mr. Schmidt said.

_Crap, they know about the Bite! _Mike thought. Things might be difficult.

"I still don't understand how that happened," Mrs. Schmidt said, "The papers made it sound the robot just jumped offstage and got him. How would that work?"

Mike swallowed. They didn't remember. It made sense, they only ever really brought him to Freddy Fazbear's as a sort of makeshift babysitting service, and that hardly ever occurred. And it had been well over a decade since the Schmidts attended a birthday party here. For Mike's family, the pizzeria was a rare treat.

"Well, um, actually…" Mike began to explain, but faltered. His parents stared at him expectantly.

"Yeah, son?" Mr. Schmidt asked.

"Uh, well, you see, the animatronics… sorta come to life at night," Mike said, and braced for their reactions. Mrs. Schmidt laughed.

"Oh you and your imagination. No wonder you took this job, you loved it here!" Mrs. Schmidt said.

"I'm serious!" Mike said.

"So why don't you show us what you do, eh Sport?" Mr. Schmidt suggested, ignoring his protests. Mike sighed.

"Alright, follow me," he said, and led the way down the West Hall.

When they passed Pirate's Cove, Mr. Schmidt stopped in front of the curtain.

"What's in here?" he asked Mike, opening the curtain and peering inside.

"That's where that animatronic that bit that guy was, they shut it down after the… incident," Mike explained.

"Hey! It's still in here!" Mr. Schmidt said, spying Foxy seated on his treasure chest, "Geez, that thing looks ugly as hell!"

"C'mon, Dad, be nice! He's been locked up for years!" Mike said, defending his metal friend.

"He?" Mrs. Schmidt asked.

"Yeah, he. That's Foxy. He's a pirate captain," Mike said.

"Foxy, eh? Well, he's still ugly," Mr. Schmidt said, and closed the curtain. Mike shook his head, and stuck his head through the curtain as his parents moved on.

"You never seem to catch a break, huh?" Mike said to the fox, and followed his parents to the security office.

Mr. Schmidt let out a low whistle upon walking into Mike's office.

"What a dump!" he said, taking in the faded walls, thin carpet, and beat up desk and chair. Mrs. Schmidt wrinkled her nose as well.

"And you're here all night?" she asked.

"Pretty much. That tablet connects to all the security cameras, and I have these doors," Mike explained, pushing the button for the left door in demonstration. The huge metal door shut with a bang.

"Jesus! Isn't that a little excessive, son?" Mr. Schmidt asked.

"It's come in handy…" Mike replied, rubbing the back of his neck, "We had a break in earlier this week. I just locked my office down, and they were… dealt with."

"And you were okay?" Mrs. Schmidt asked, concerned.

"I was fine, Mom," Mike sighed, "That's why I got these doors, just in case." Mike reopened the door, and continued to explain that the restaurant had limited power at night, so he had to be conservative, or else the fridges could thaw. He also picked up the tablet and demonstrated how that worked as well, pulling up the Show Stage feed. The screen showed Freddy and the others, all in their normal show positions.

"Son, I don't know how you can sit alone here all night, staring at these things. They're creepy as hell," Mr. Schmidt said.

"They're not that bad," Mike said, checking his watch. 11:56. Getting close.

"You talk of them like they're regular people," Mrs. Schmidt observed, "Are you sure this job is good for you?" Mike let out an exasperated sigh.

"_Yes._ This job is fine, I enjoy it, actually. Now look, I really need to tell you about the animatronics…" Mike said.

"Son, drop the joke. It's not that funny," Mr. Schmidt said.

"It's _not_ a joke. I'm telling you, these guys are alive!" Mike argued.

"Mike, I think you should quit. Being up late at night, alone, in the dark, it's not healthy," Mrs. Schmidt suggested.

"I'm fine, Mom! Look, see those drawings?" Mike pointed to the corkboard on the wall. It was filled with several of Bonnie's drawings, mostly pictures of the others and Mike. They weren't museum quality, and were in crayon, but you could definitely tell who was who.

"All of them were drawn by Bonnie," Mike explained, pulling up the Show Stage camera on the tablet and pointing to the purple rabbit. Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt looked at Mike in concern.

"Son, those are _robots_," Mr. Schmidt said, "Just a bunch of metal. They're not alive."

Mike pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Earlier today, he was worried they would flip out when he told them. Now, he had to prove it to them, to prove he wasn't going crazy. His watch alarm went off, alerting them to the start of his shift. Mike looked up.

"You know what? I can prove it. Right… about…" Mike picked up his tablet, turning it on and picking the Show Stage feed again. Bonnie had left her spot, happily walking towards the office. Mike had decided she would be first, since the rabbit was the most caring of the group. Soon, Mike and his parents heard heavy muffled footsteps as Bonnie skipped as best she could towards the door. She cautiously peeked through the doorway, huge smile on her face.

"Now," Mike said, smugly, looking up from the tablet in his hands. He didn't expect what happened next.

Mrs. Schmidt screamed, and Mr. Schmidt shoved past Mike, hitting the door close button. Bonnie jumped back, narrowly avoiding getting hit by the heavy door. Mr. Schmidt stepped between the door and Mike.

"Mike! Get back!" Mr. Schmidt said.

"What? Why?" Mike asked.

"There's something wrong with the robots!" Mr. Schmidt said. Mike shook his head.

"I _told _you," Mike said, and reached for the door release, "Now say hello." Mr. Schmidt made to grab Mike's hand and pull it away, but was too late. The door opened, revealing a very confused Bonnie.

"Er, hello…" she said nervously, giving an awkward wave. Mr. Schmidt pushed Mike back and shut the door again.

"What the hell, Dad?" Mike asked, confused.

"Don't let that thing in here, what are you mad!?" Mr. Schmidt asked, looking at his son as if he were insane.

"Christ, Dad, she's not going to hurt you!" Mike said, throwing his hands up in frustration. He went for the button again, but Mr. Schmidt grabbed his arm.

"What's gotten into you? These things are dangerous!" Mr. Schmidt exclaimed.

Mrs. Schmidt screamed again, pointing to the window. Bonnie had her face and hands up against it, glowing green eyes filled with concern. Mr. Schmidt slowly walked up to her.

"Shoo! Get out of here!" he ordered. Bonnie cocked her head, puzzled. She looked at Mike, hoping to figure out what was wrong. Mike went to open the door again, but his father blocked him.

"Dad, _move!_" Mike said. Mr. Schmidt pushed him back.

"I don't know what you're thinking, but we are _not_ opening that door with that thing out there!" Mr. Schmidt said. Mike turned to Bonnie.

"You heard him, Bon, back off a bit. Just hang back with Freddy and Chica, I'll sort this out," Mike told the rabbit. She nodded sadly, and walked away.

"They understand you?" Mrs. Schmidt asked.

"_Yes._ They're not dangerous. Look, she's gone, now open the door so we don't waste power," Mike said.

Mr. Schmidt stared at the button, obviously not wanting to remove the barrier keeping them "safe." Mike reached over and punched it, the door sliding back open.

As soon as his path was clear, Mike strode out into the hall. Mr. Schmidt grabbed his arm again.

"Where are you going?" Mr. Schmidt asked.

"To prove to you they're not dangerous," Mike replied, and shook off his father's grasp, continuing down into the hall.

"Mike, don't!" Mrs. Schmidt called out, but refused to leave the room.

Mike found Bonnie waiting just out of sight of the office. She walked up, clearly upset.

"Mike, what's wrong?" Bonnie asked, "Why do they keep shutting the doors?"

"Well, just as I assumed, they're scared of you," Mike explained. Bonnie looked down, ashamed.

"Oh. I'm sorry, Mike," Bonnie apologized.

"It's not your fault. C'mon, we'll try again," Mike told her, grabbing her hand. Before they could react, however, a large red blur shot past, loud metal footsteps clanking down the hall.

"Foxy, no!" Mike called after the fox. He heard Foxy shout "Ahoy, there!" and his parents scream loudly. Mike and Bonnie took off running.

Upon reaching his office, he found Foxy staring down at Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt, who had tucked themselves into the furthest corner away from the metal fox. Mike stepped between them.

"Foxy, back off, man, this is _not_ the time," Mike said, putting his hands up.

"But I wanted ta meet yer parents," Foxy said stubbornly, crossing his arms.

"You will, just… go back to the Cove, okay? You can't just charge them," Mike told the pirate. Foxy nodded guiltily, and backed out of the office, staying by the window so he could still see.

Mike reached out a hand to help his parents up, but they didn't take it, instead staring at Bonnie who looked over Mike's shoulder. He turned to the rabbit.

"You too, Bonnie," Mike said gently. Bonnie nodded, and joined Foxy outside. Mike turned back to his parents.

"I'm sorry about that. Foxy was really excited to meet you guys, and-," Mike began, but Mr. Schmidt interrupted him.

"_Excited?_ That thing attacked us!" Mr. Schmidt said.

"I did no'!" Foxy argued from the hallway, "Why do ye lubbers always say tha'?"

"Foxy, chill. Mom, Dad, they aren't going to hurt you!" Mike explained. Bonnie nodded, stepping forward one pace.

"Yeah! We're all really excited to meet you!" Bonnie said encouragingly, "Freddy and Chica too!"

"Freddy and Chica?" Mrs. Schmidt asked, "You mean there's more?"

Her question was answered when Freddy and Chica walked up to join Bonnie and Foxy outside the left door.

"How are things coming along, Michael? We heard screaming," Freddy said, concerned.

"About as well as usual," Mike replied. Freddy frowned, and stepped forward to stand behind Mike, taking off his top hat.

"I see. Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt, we seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot. My name is Freddy Fazbear, and this is Chica, Bonnie, and Foxy," Freddy said gently, pointing to each animatronic in turn, "Believe me when I say that we have no desire to hurt you, and are very pleased to meet you."

Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt stared. Slowly, they stood up, and Mr. Schmidt spoke up.

"Mike, let's go," he ordered.

"What?" Mike asked.

"_Let's go,_" he said quietly, as if to make sure the robots didn't hear.

"No!" Mike protested. Mr. Schmidt grabbed him and dragged him out the right door, putting himself between his family and the animatronics as they backed away down the hall. Mike protested and struggled during the entire journey, but his father refused to let go.

After a small stunned pause, the animatronics followed them. Mike managed to lock the front door, tossing his keys down the hall and past the animatronics.

"Mike, what are you doing!?" Mr. Schmidt asked.

"I was hoping not to come to this, really, and I want to say I'm sorry," Mike told them guiltily.

"For what?" Mrs. Schmidt asked.

"This. Foxy? Chica? Grab them," Mike ordered.

_**A/N: Operation Cliffhanger is a go. Standby for possible fan reaction, and prep all point defense systems for possible incendiary retaliation. Keep up a constant PM radar sweep. Pump out the writer's block. Maintain heading 004, next stage of operation should begin shortly. Dismissed. –DeltaV _**(Basically, you were on an aircraft carrier metaphor just then). **_**_


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter 2: Trust

Mike sat awkwardly at one of the tables in the Dining Hall, drumming his fingers against the surface. Across from him sat his parents, who were being "encouraged" to stay seated by Foxy, who stood behind them. At first, Mr. Schmidt tried to get up and escape, but Foxy's growling convinced him otherwise.

Now, he spent his time glaring at Mike. Mrs. Schmidt kept looking down at her lap, except for when she would take small fearful glances at the metal fox behind her. She wouldn't stop crying, and Mike felt a pang of guilt.

"I'm sorry, okay?" Mike told them for what seemed like the twelfth time in the past minute. "Believe me, holding you hostage was not part of the plan."

Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt didn't reply, but Mr. Schmidt's glare grew more intense, if that was possible. Suddenly, Mrs. Schmidt spoke up.

"What are they going to do to us?" Mrs. Schmidt asked in a wavering voice.

"Nothing," Mike replied, "Right Foxy?"

The fox nodded, trying to give a warm smile, "Tha's right. We just wanna chat," he said.

"Hell of a way to go about it," Mr. Schmidt grumbled, shifting in his seat.

"You chose the hard way," Mike reminded, "Now relax and wait for the others, okay?"

Chica hoped to make amends with food, choosing to quickly bake a pizza as a peace offering. Bonnie, on the other hand, chose to finish the drawings she was making, while Freddy had disappeared into the Backstage without explanation. Foxy had wanted to grab something from his Cove, but Mike needed him to keep his parents seated.

Soon, the smell of piping hot pizza began to drift into the Dining Hall, and Mike's parents began to relax, Mrs. Schmidt more so.

"Oh good, it was just going to be pizza," she said in relief. Mike looked at her, puzzled.

"What'd you think Chica would cook in there?" Mike asked.

"…Us," Mrs. Schmidt admitted guiltily. Foxy looked at her bewildered.

"Ye thought we'd eat ya?" he asked, insulted. Mrs. Schmidt gave a guilty nod.

"I still wouldn't put it past 'em," Mr. Schmidt murmured, glancing at Mike.

The room fell into silence again, until heavy footsteps approached, and Chica walked up carrying the pizza she made.

"Sorry for scaring you, I guess," Chica said, and placed the pie on the table before standing next to Mike.

Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt made no move to eat it, choosing to stare at the pizza instead. Chica shifted impatiently, crossing her arms. Mike grabbed a slice.

"Jeez, it's not poisoned, look!" Mike said, taking a huge bite and swallowing it, "See? Just try it."

Silence fell as Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt continued to stare at it, until another set of heavy footfalls sounded. Bonnie walked up, several pieces of paper in her hands.

"Hi," she said carefully, "Um, I'm sorry you got so scared. I made these for you, to say I'm sorry." Bonnie placed the drawings on the table.

One of them depicted Mike's parents sitting at the table like they were doing now, with Bonnie and the others standing around them. The word "Sorry!" was drawn in red crayon across the top.

Another, apparently drawn the previous night, since the clothing was different, showed Mike's parents standing on the Show Stage, playing instruments with the band while Mike and Foxy watched from the audience. This one also had a message written on it, reading "New Friends!"

The last one, also drawn the night before, was of just Mike and Bonnie's idea of what Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt would look like. The three were standing like a family portrait, with Mike in the middle.

Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt stared at the pictures, visibly confused. Mike spoke up.

"These are awesome, Bon!" the guard said, "Right Mom? Dad?"

"Oh, yes, lovely," Mrs. Schmidt stammered, giving Bonnie a nervous smile. Mr. Schmidt frowned, and looked up at the rabbit.

"What's your game?" he asked. Bonnie tilted her head in confusion.

"Game?" she asked.

"Yeah. Holding us hostage, then giving us pizza and, _this_," Mr. Schmidt said, gesturing to the drawings.

"It's an _apology_, Dad! They don't want to hurt you. Bonnie made these because she was excited to meet you! There's no game!" Mike explained, exasperated, "You wanted to see what I did at work. This is what I do! I watch over these guys, my _friends!_"

"Friends!?" Mr. Schmidt asked, "These things are your _friends!?_"

"Oh my God, Dad, _yes!_" Mike argued, "What's your problem? Why won't you get it?"

"I have a problem? _I have a problem_?" Mr. Schmidt roared.

"You're the one screaming," Chica pointed out, shrugging her shoulders. Mr. Schmidt continued, pointing an accusing finger at Mike.

"What about you? Making friends with a bunch of murderous robots! What about the other night guards, huh? What happened to them?" Mr. Schmidt asked.

Mike faltered. _Shit,_ he though, _where's this going?_ Mr. Schmidt noticed Mike hesitate, and continued on.

"As soon as I read that the night guards kept disappearing, I always wondered why. I got worried when you started here, but couldn't figure it out. Now I know. It's _them,_ Mike! Don't you understand? I figured it out; these guys lure you in being all nice and happy, and then _bam!_" Mr. Schmidt smacked the table for emphasis, "They kill you! That's what they're doing now! They're going to kill all three of us!"

Mr. Schmidt finished his speech, and looked around the table, panting slightly at the exertion. Foxy, Bonnie, and Chica all looked away, remembering what they did to previous guards. Mike, on the other hand, sighed in relief, before starting to chuckle.

"That's what you think they're doing? I already figured out what happened to those guards, Dad. We're perfectly safe, trust me," Mike told his parents, still chuckling at how far behind his parents were.

"So what actually happened to the other guards, Mike?" Mrs. Schmidt asked. Mike looked to her, still smiling.

"Oh, they're dead," Mike said, and Mrs. Schmidt gasped, "But it was a huge misunderstanding. These guys were programmed to guard the place at night after the murders, being set to not allow anyone other than themselves to be inside. They assumed that the guards were animatronics, and were 'out of uniform' because they didn't have a suit on. These guys caught them, and stuffed them into a suit."

Mr. Schmidt looked at Bonnie, examining her suit, and turned back to Mike.

"That doesn't sound so bad," he commented.

"Those suits are made to attach to their robot skeletons, and are filled with crossbars and wiring so they can move their arms and mouths and stuff. If you're just pushed in there, it'll kill you," Mike explained.

Mike's parents sat in horrified silence, while Chica, Bonnie, and Foxy looked on sadly. Mrs. Schmidt broke the quiet.

"Did they ever try and do that to you?" she asked.

"Yup," came Mike's flat reply.

Mrs. Schmidt looked at Bonnie for confirmation, and she nodded guiltily.

"We found out he was human about halfway into his second week," Bonnie explained, "And we just recently realized all the others were human too."

"They feel horrible about it too," Mike added, "That's why they were all so happy to meet you, since it was kind of like a fresh start."

The guard paused to let the words sink in. His parents held similar expressions as they tried to process what they had just heard.

Mike then heard Freddy's voice calling out from Backstage, sounding more metallic as he increased its volume.

"Michael? Can you come help me with this?" the bear called.

"Yeah, sure!" Mike yelled over his shoulder, and stood up, climbing onto the stage. Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt weren't happy with being left alone, but didn't stop him.

"What's up?" Mike asked, stepping through the doorway. The Backstage still unnerved him, with all the empty heads staring back at him, but he was distracted by Freddy, who looked out at him from the row of hanging suits.

"I thought if I brought out one of the suits and showed it was empty, they'd believe us," Freddy explained.

"Makes sense," Mike agreed, "I guess you overheard us."

Freddy nodded, but frowned and gestured behind him.

"But I seem to have gotten myself… stuck," he admitted.

"Stuck?" Mike asked, struggling not to grin.

"Yes, _stuck._ Something caught onto my back when I was digging through these suits, trying to find one that didn't have dark splotches on it," Freddy said, moving back and forth for emphasis.

Mike laughed despite himself, and moved to see what the problem was. It appeared one of the holding racks had been broken, and pierced the back of Freddy's suit, catching on his endoskeleton when he tried to move.

"Ouch," Mike commented, starting to wiggle the hook around, "Does that hurt?"

"We don't feel pain, just contact," Freddy explained, "I feel something, and it feels metal, but that's about it."

"And other stuff?" Mike grunted, starting to pull the hook out.

"Everything feels a little different," Freddy said simply.

"Huh," Mike said, and gritted his teeth, pulling the hook hard.

It finally game free, taking a little bit more of Freddy's suit with it, and Freddy stepped away from the rack.

"Much better," he said, "Thank you Michael."

"Don't mention it," Mike said, rubbing his hand, "Let's go see if we can introduce you guys again."

Back at the table, the tension broke when Freddy reintroduced the group.

"Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt? I know we've had some… difficulties tonight, so I'll start over. My name is Freddy Fazbear, and these are my friends, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy," Freddy said, again gesturing to each animatronic in turn.

"Hello… Freddy," Mrs. Schmidt greeted awkwardly, "Bonnie… Chica… er, Foxy."

The animatronics nodded as he listed their names, Bonnie giving a little wave. Foxy moved from behind Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt to stand across from them as well, standing next to Chica, who was on Mike's left. Freddy moved to stand on Mike's right, nudging Bonnie to the side to make room.

Mr. Schmidt, however, didn't say anything, still apparently convinced they were all about to be murdered. Mike frowned at him.

"Dad, say hi," Mike said, "They're not going to do anything, I swear."

Mr. Schmidt grunted, and looked away. Mike covered his face with his hands.

"Oh my God, you're so damn stubborn," Mike groaned, voice muffled by his hands. He dropped them onto his lap.

"Ye haven' finished yer pizza," Foxy observed, gesturing to the pie with his hook.

Mrs. Schmidt smiled nervously at the fox, and grabbed a slice, taking a bite. Chica grinned as her expression changed from a forced smile to genuine surprise, and the bird crossed her arms in triumph when Mrs. Schmidt took another, larger bite.

"This is quite good," Mrs. Schmidt praised.

"Thanks," Chica replied, and looked expectantly at Mr. Schmidt.

"Don't be rude, Dad," Mike said, pushing the pizza towards his father.

Begrudgingly, he picked it up, and studied it. He held it for several seconds, before finally taking a bite. His reaction wasn't nearly as pronounced as Mrs. Schmidt's, but his demeanor softened almost immediately.

"Remember when we used to take Mikey here?" Mrs. Schmidt asked her husband, and Chica chuckled at the nickname. Mike shot the bird a glare.

"Yes, dear, I do," Mr. Schmidt sighed, setting his slice back down, "Glad to see the food's improved." He turned to Mike

"Alright, now what?" he asked, "We had your pizza, happy?" Mike nodded, and checked his watch.

"Well, my shift isn't over for another couple hours. You guys are more than welcome to stay," Mike told them. The animatronics nodded eagerly. Mrs. Schmidt smiled, and opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by her husband.

"No, no, it's rather late. We should leave," he said. Mrs. Schmidt looked at him.

"Oh, hush," she said, "We were so mean, the least we could do is stay, to apologize."

"We'd be more than happy to have you stay," Freddy added.

"Yeah! It'll be fun!" Bonnie said. Mr. Schmidt looked at each animatronic, staring at Foxy, who had an encouraging smile on his face.

"Come on, dear! These are our son's friends, after all," Mrs. Schmidt said. Mr. Schmidt sighed.

"Alright, fine," he said, "But just for tonight."

_**A/N: I know what you might be thinking: "That's it? That's the conclusion? But it's so short and stuff." And you would be correct, slightly insulting voice signifying my reader base. It would be short if this were the conclusion. Good thing it's not! See you next chapter! **_

_**Oh, and another thing. A fan of mine took it upon him/herself to make videos of readings of my stories, which is awesome! I'll let you know more when they're ready, because I can't wait! Word through the grapevine has also told me that apparently more fan artwork is getting made as well, which is also incredibly exciting! **_

_**I've also noticed a few little nods to my series in other stories (I think…), such as the same name for Foxy's ship, (I called it the "Red Fox"!), and little shared character quirks. Whether the nods were intentional or not, I still found it great! (Side Note: the "Red Fox" is a really generic name, so I'm not taking credit for being the first one to call it that, although I didn't get it from somewhere. It just seemed like the perfect name to give for a kid-oriented pizza place to pick.)**_

_**Also-also, I found a story that had a fleshed out Foxy story in it, which was pretty damn fun since it reminded me of the one "my Foxy" told Caleb in Night One. I'm blanking on the name of it, though. If you know what the hell I'm talking about, share the name. **_

_**Since all that stuff's going on, I want to repeat that I'm seriously lucky to have you guys as readers. Until I talk to you in italicized bold font again! –DeltaV**_


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter 3: Family Matters

Slowly, but surely, Mrs. Schmidt began to thoroughly enjoy being with the animatronics. Her favorite by far seemed to be Chica, who eagerly ate up all of Mrs. Schmidt's stories about Mike, much to the guard's chagrin. The two also held a shared interest in cooking, although Mrs. Schmidt was more of a desert person.

"But of course, our little Mikey refused to put on his pants, and ran out of the front door with just a shirt on!" Mrs. Schmidt finished, and she and Chica shared a laugh, although Chica's was more at Mike's expense. Mike frowned.

"Mom, c'mon, I was like, three!" he complained. Chica laughed anyway.

Mrs. Schmidt also really liked Bonnie, calling her "a sweet little thing," ignoring the fact the rabbit towered over her. Bonnie didn't care, and loved sharing stories of when they could move around as they pleased. She even remembered a story that had Mike in it.

* * *

><p>It was Mike's second visit to the pizzeria in as many days, since it was summer break and both of his parents had to work, and his fourth overall. By now, he had made friends with one of the staff, a waitress named Denise. The boy had also achieved the status of "regular," and was recognized by the animatronics.<p>

"Hello again, Michael!" Freddy greeted, tipping his hat.

"Hi Freddy!" Mike replied, and Freddy continued on his way, having arranged a simple game to be played with Foxy.

It was one of the fox's favorites, and was essentially a scavenger hunt throughout the restaurant. Freddy would keep the children distracted while Foxy ran around hiding little trinkets, some in plain sight, others masterfully hidden. The pirate would then assume his post in Pirate's Cove, and give little clues as to where they were. Whoever found them got to keep them.

With Foxy serving as a clue giver, Freddy and another staff member (usually Denise, who didn't mind the robots) would police the pizzeria, breaking up scuffles over an item, and making sure nothing got broken. The game was popular with the children, since there was a desirable award, and the entire thing felt like an adventure! This was also its appeal to Foxy.

When the game got into full swing, Mike wandered around. He had no desire to play, instead using the distraction of the event to talk with the usually swarmed mascots. Chica had decided to visit the Kitchen, so that left Bonnie.

The rabbit enjoyed watching the game progress, but hated it when Foxy would make her guitar one of the clues. She noticed Mike walking towards her, and she waved.

"Hi Mike!" she said, "Back again?"

"Yup," Mike replied, sitting next to Bonnie, watching the game as well. It got particularly interesting when one child kept just narrowly missing an eye patch.

Foxy had hidden it rather obviously, placing it around the head of a cardboard cut-out of Freddy that was used to promote the restaurant's birthday packages. The poor kid never noticed the bear sported only one eye, and would constantly walk back and forth between the cut-out and the Cove, clearly not getting whatever clues Foxy was telling him.

Eventually, it seemed to click, and the kid dashed out from the Cove, happily claiming his new pirate garb. Mike and Bonnie both cheered at the child's success. Bonnie looked at Mike.

"Why aren't you playing?" she asked.

"I dunno," Mike replied, "I just didn't want to."

"Foxy might appreciate it if you visited," Bonnie suggested, "I don't think he knows you're around, and I'm sure he'd love to know!"

The fox, however, _did_ know Mike was there, having spotted him while hiding the items. Getting up and leaning through the curtained doorway that separated Pirate's Cove from the rest of the restaurant, he gathered a few of the players.

"See tha' lad there, sittin' with Bonnie?" Foxy said, pointing, "Ye all migh' wan' ta check his shoes." The children that had heard the clue immediately dashed off, leaving Foxy to start to chuckle to himself.

Back on the stage, Mike was startled by the group of kids that were making a beeline for him. Letting out a shout, Mike jumped off the stage and legged it for safety.

* * *

><p>"And they chased him around until he tripped, and took his shoes!" Bonnie finished, "For days, Foxy would always laugh when you reminded him about it!" Mrs. Schmidt laughed as well. Mike was angry.<p>

"_Foxy_ did that!?" Mike said, "I thought I pissed off a gang or something! God, even back then he screwed with me!" Mike crossed his arms, pouting. Mrs. Schmidt and Chica just laughed, and dropped back into conversation.

Mr. Schmidt, on the other hand, wasn't adjusting nearly as quickly. Freddy had offered to show him the Backstage, to show him he had nothing to worry about, with Foxy tagging along. The room clearly unnerved Mr. Schmidt just as much as it did Mike, and being by himself wasn't making things better. Freddy tried to improve it by risking using extra power to turn on the few lights.

But, Mr. Schmidt buried any misgivings, and followed Freddy towards the spare suits, hearing Foxy clanking right behind him. The bear carefully pulled a suit off of its rack, and held it up for Mr. Schmidt to see.

He let out a low whistle upon seeing the many wires and crossbars that crossed the suit and gave it structure.

"Yeah, I can see how that would hurt," Mr. Schmidt commented.

"Yes," Freddy agreed, "I'm glad that phase is behind us."

"You and me both, considering where I'm standing," Mr. Schmidt said.

He looked around at the other suits on the rack, noticing that a few sported large, dark stains. Frowning, he stepped closer, pulling the arm of one of the stained suits out into the light. Mr. Schmidt assumed it was oil, but in the light, the color didn't seem right. Oil turned brown, not black. He suddenly realized what it was, and dropped it in shock, backing away from the suit. Foxy noticed.

"Ye alrigh'?" Foxy asked, looking over his shoulder and spotting the dirty suit. "Oh," he said simply.

"I'll… assume that hasn't been cleaned in a long time," Mr. Schmidt said nervously.

"Most likely never," Freddy said, trying to put the man at ease.

Mr. Schmidt took a deep, shuddering breath, and looked around, staring into the empty eye sockets of the heads lining the shelf.

"Let's go, this place is giving me the creeps," he said, and walked around Foxy to the exit. After stepping back onstage, Mr. Schmidt ran a hand through his thinning hair, blowing air out through his mouth. Freddy and Foxy exchanged a glance. Mike walked up, face portraying a sour mood.

"Hey Dad," Mike greeted, "Trust them yet?"

"Yes," Mr. Schmidt replied, "I'm not dead, right?"

"So far," Mike said, smiling at the look on his father's face, "I'm kidding. Hey, Foxy, didn't you want to show my parents something from Pirate's Cove?"

Foxy's eyes lit up, and he grinned.

"Tha's right! C'mon, matey!" Foxy exclaimed, and hoisted Mr. Schmidt aloft by the back of his shirt, and sprinting for the Cove.

"Hey!" Mr. Schmidt protested as he was carried away. Mike looked at Freddy.

"He's… gonna be okay, right?" Mike asked, watching the fox and his father disappear behind the curtain.

"We can only hope," Freddy told the guard with a small smile.

* * *

><p>Mr. Schmidt had been dumped into a chair that had been left in the Cove. There were no lights, so the large room was incredibly dark. Foxy was fiddling around in the back of the room, as far as Mr. Schmidt could see. A <em>click<em> was heard, and several of the ceiling lights switched on, illuminating the space.

Looking around, Mr. Schmidt could see that it was essentially a large, barren room, with a faded oceanic mural dominating one of the walls. Against the wall closest to the curtain was a small stage that sported a battered ship design. It was bare except for a large treasure chest on the far right, which Foxy was now bent over, rummaging through it. The carpet of the large room was faded and threadbare, torn in places where Foxy's metal feet had gotten snagged. There was a large spot of carpet that wasn't nearly as worn, and its silhouette seemed to suggest a small playground of sorts used to be present. The only piece of furniture was the black folding chair Mr. Schmidt sat in, the rest of the room just blank blue carpet. The walls had holes and scratches, including a large set of tally marks that covered the wall behind the stage.

The entire room gave off the feeling almost akin to an actual cave, its decades-old lighting not sufficient to light up everything. There were windows along the back wall, but they had the glass knocked out and replaced with plywood.

Foxy finally straightened, having found what he was looking for, giving a shout of triumph.

"'Ere it is! Been waitin' a long time ta use this!" Foxy announced, holding up what was quite possibly the most cliché pirate's hat. It was shaped almost like a taco, and proudly displayed a skull and crossed swords on the front. It was small, clearly sized for children, quite possibly as a prize or gift shop item, and was bent out of shape from spending years in the chest. Foxy walked up to Mr. Schmidt.

"This makes ya me first mate!" Foxy told the man, holding the hat out in front of him.

"Um… Okay…" Mr. Schmidt said, not quite understanding. Foxy shook the hat, clearly wanting Mr. Schmidt to take it. He didn't.

"C'mon, lad, ye have to wear tha hat!" Foxy said, moving it closer to Mr. Schmidt's face.

Mr. Schmidt looked at the hat, which was almost hitting him in the face, and at then looked at Foxy.

"You can't be serious," Mr. Schmidt said. Foxy's happy grin dropped into an almost scowl-like frown.

"Wear. Tha. _Hat._" Foxy ordered in a low voice.

Surprised at this sudden change in demeanor, Mr. Schmidt quickly complied, squeezing the small hat onto his head, almost tearing it apart. Foxy's grin returned, unnaturally wide due to his broken jaw. The fox climbed back onto the stage.

"I couldn' do this with Mike, ya know," Foxy explained, "'Cause he be tha guard. But ye, ye be a guest!"

"Lucky me," Mr. Schmidt grumbled, but played along, not wanting to anger the large metal pirate.

Foxy launched into one of his stories, happily describing all the adventures he and his first mate Schmidty had participated in. This one featured, according to Foxy:

"Tha most vile, wicked beast a sailor ever saw: the Kraken!" Foxy said, dropping his voice to increase the drama, "They say it be as long as three galleons, with tentacles as big 'round as the mast on me ship…" And so on and so forth.

Through it all, Mr. Schmidt sat awkwardly, fake smile plastered on his face, and fumbling with questions Foxy would ask him. Slowly, however, even he became enthralled by the story, and began to get invested in it as well.

Once Foxy broke into a rendition of "Pump Shanty," Mr. Schmidt was surprised to find himself singing along, despite not knowing the words. After the seventh chorus, Mr. Schmidt was onstage, swaying along with Foxy as they belted out verse after verse, Foxy's voice slightly garbled with the effort.

The noise carried down the hall, and reminded Mike that his father had been missing in action for quite a long time, and checked his watch. It was getting close to six. Mr. Schmidt had been in the Cove for nearly two hours, so Mike decided to check on him. Of all the things, possibly horrific, he had steeled himself to see, the last thing he expected was his father and Foxy _getting along._

Mr. Schmidt, the man that slammed the security door in Bonnie's face and tried to sneak out the entrance, was standing onstage with Foxy, wearing a pirate hat, singing some old sea shanty. During a pause Foxy took to allow Mr. Schmidt to catch his breath, Mike cleared his throat loudly.

"Having fun?" Mike asked, grinning as his father scrambled to take off the hat.

"Ahoy, Mike!" Foxy greeted, "We just be finishin' our story. Care to join?" Mr. Schimdt turned to the fox.

"Actually, Capta-, uh, Foxy, it's getting pretty late… my wife and I better go," he said, face turning red from embarrassment. Foxy visibly deflated.

"Oh. Alrigh' then, I s'pose I'll see ye around, aye?" Foxy asked hopefully.

"I don't know. Maybe?" Mr. Schmidt said, awkwardly handing the hat back to Foxy.

"Keep it," Foxy said, "Ta remind ya of yer adventure!" Mike snickered.

"I can't wait to hear about it, _matey_," Mike teased his father.

"Shut up, Mike. You're still in hot water for earlier," Mr. Schmidt scolded.

"What? You gonna send me to my room?" Mike baited.

Foxy stepped between the two, and turned to Mike.

"C'mon, lad, ye best be respectin' yer parents!" Foxy scolded, narrowing his eyes. Mike put his hands up defensively.

"Alright, alright, relax," Mike said. But Foxy didn't move. "What?" Mike asked.

"Well, say yer sorry," Foxy said, crossing his arms. Mike looked at him bewildered.

"Mike. Say yer sorry," Foxy repeated, lowering his voice. Mike nodded.

"Sorry for the… you know," Mike awkwardly apologized, glaring at the smug look on his father's face.

"Better be careful sport. Looks like I'm his favorite," Mr. Schmidt said, and walked around to the exit.

"Thanks for the show, Foxy. I really enjoyed it," Mr. Schmidt told the fox. Foxy grinned.

"Any time mate, any time!" Foxy said happily, and went to turn off the lights.

Cove now plunged into darkness, Mike, Foxy, and Mr. Schmidt returned to the others. They were still surrounding the table, talking, when they walked up.

"There you are!" Mrs. Schmidt said, watching her husband approach, "Do you feel better now?"

"Yes, dear," Mr. Schmidt sighed, and he walked up to Bonnie.

"Sorry about all that… stuff earlier," he said. Bonnie smiled.

"It's fine!" she said, and pulled the man into a hug.

"Gah!" Mr. Schmidt said, caught off guard by the tight hug.

When the rabbit let go, Mr. Schmidt gasped slightly. The others bid farewell to Mike's parents, and escorted them out the front door.

"You're parents are really nice," Bonnie told Mike, watching them drive away.

"And you're mom's hilarious," Chica added, grinning at the guard.

"Yeah, yeah. You know most of that stuff isn't true, right?" Mike replied.

"Sure it isn't," Chica said, rolling her eyes.

Mike's watch beeped. Five minutes until six.

"Well, you guys better get back into position. Glad we finally got _that_ out of the way," Mike said, walking back towards the security office.

As the animatronics returned, and Arianna arrived to relieve him, Mike suddenly had a crippling sense of dread. Something wasn't quite right, he thought, confused at where this was coming from. He couldn't quite place it, but some deep down gut feeling told him something was wrong. Uncertain as to what it could possibly mean, Mike ignored it and waited for the bus. He could figure it out at home.

_**A/N: Look! I learned how to page break! This isn't the end, since that would be a story shorter than average. And that's no good. Anyway, nothing new to report on the fan creations as of yet, but I'm still incredibly excited! I'll update this chapter's Author's Note should stuff pop up before the next one is released, linking (if I can figure that out) or using just a simple shout out to help you find it. **_

_**Another thing I want to share: This "secret project" I've been working on. I've been strongly considering getting a few beta readers to work out the kinks, but now I'm wondering if I should just straight up upload it upon the masses. So, a poll: Should I get beta readers (these would be people like Cenobia100, who inspired the embarrassing Mike stories, as well as other long-time readers) or should I just turn it loose for everyone? Leave your vote in your review! (FYI: It's not done yet)**_

_**As always, thanks for reading, I hope you've enjoyed this latest installment. I know the whole "funny feeling" shtick is a bit overdone, but just couldn't end this story here. There needed to be some pizzazz, some more… oomph! Or something. Anyway, thanks again for everything, you guys are great. –DeltaV "I used to pretend to be normal. But that got boring, so I went back to being me!" **_


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter 4: This is Bad

Mike sat back on his couch and ran a hand through his hair. Ever since the disturbing feeling he had gotten back at the restaurant, he checked every possible lead. He called his parents, and they were fine, having gotten back safely and going to bed. He paid a quick visit to the pizzeria, and again, everything seemed normal. The animatronics were performing as usual, Foxy was camped out in Pirate's Cove, as usual. Arianna wasn't even all that mad his parents visited (but he still got an earful). So what was that?

The guard had no clue, and decided to absent-mindedly surf the web, hoping looking at a screen would tire his eyes enough to let him sleep. While clicking around, Mike thought to try the local news. Maybe something had happened. Further investigation revealed it was a slow ass news week, with the top story being the opening of some new restaurant. That served pizza. With animatronic performers. _Wait, what?_

Yes, it seemed Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria might have some competition, but that was hardly a reason for that spike of dread. The worst possible thing would be the restaurant would finally close down, and that was hardly a reason to fear. Besides, that new restaurant wouldn't be open for a while, if this article was any indication. Apparently the building had just been bought, and work was progressing. Again, nothing to worry about.

Mike smacked his forehead, trying to rack his brain for any possible reason he was spooked. It took a lot to do that these days. Maybe his mother was right, and his job was finally taking a toll on him mentally. Whatever, he'd check with the animatronics tonight. Maybe they could help.

* * *

><p>"I don't know what to tell you, Mike," Freddy said to the guard, "Far as I know, everything's pretty much the same. The manager was miffed, but she always seems that way."<p>

Mike and Freddy were in the Dining Hall, Mike sitting at a table as Freddy arranged the chairs, like always. Bonnie and Chica were in the Kitchen doing who knew what, while Foxy could be heard singing to himself in Pirate's Cove.

"Yeah, real ray of friggin' sunshine, her," Mike agreed, "But seriously? Nothing? Not even a malfunction?"

The bear shook his head.

"Foxy's even in a much better mood after last night," Freddy added, "Perhaps this job is making you paranoid."

Mike nodded in silence.

"Something broken?" he asked, not ready to give up the goose just yet.

"No," Freddy replied.

"Something dirty?"

"No more than usual."

"Break in?"

"Wouldn't we have known?"

"Terrorist threat?"

"Now really, Michael, what even _is_ that?" Freddy asked, "I think you're looking for a problem that does not exist."

"I guess you're right," Mike finally agreed, "I must be too used to _something_ happening. Have you heard about that new restaurant they're building?"

Freddy shook his head.

"I don't really get out much," he said, pushing another chair closer to the table.

"Right. So, apparently, it's a pizzeria," Mike explained.

"I see. Can't complain," Freddy replied, not entirely interested.

"And it has animatronic entertainers. Like you," Mike continued.

The chair Freddy was pushing was suddenly slammed into the table.

"It has what?" Freddy asked, eyes wide.

"Animatronics," Mike replied, not sure what the big deal was.

"Do you think they're… you know…" Freddy gestured to himself.

"What, a bear?" Mike asked, and upon seeing Freddy's frown added, "No, probably not. I've seen some other animatronic stuff, and you guys are one of a kind."

Freddy looked relieved, and straightened the chair he had slammed into the table. Mike checked his watch. 12:32. Time to do… Something. Mike stood up and wandered down to Pirate's Cove to check on Foxy. But first he decided to stick his head into the Kitchen to check on Bonnie and Chica.

The Kitchen was dark, but Mike could make the two of them out. Chica was digging through ingredients, while Bonnie was absorbed into some kind of book, studying it intently.

"Hey girls," Mike greeted, and Chica and Bonnie turned to look, Chica's head turning almost half way around.

"Oh, hey Mike," Chica responded, and went back to searching the cabinets. Bonnie went back to reading.

"What are you guys up to?" Mike asked, "What are you reading, Bon?"

"A cookbook," Bonnie replied, "Chica found it sitting on the desk out front. She wants to learn how to make other stuff besides pizza." Chica gave an affirmative wave.

"Alright. Best of luck, I guess," Mike said. Chica gave a dismissive wave, and Bonnie looked up and smiled, then went back to the book.

Mike passed through the curtain to Pirate's Cove, finding Foxy standing on the stage, singing some sort of shanty, while dancing around happily. He stopped upon seeing Mike.

"Ahoy, Mike!" Foxy greeted, raising his hook up, a massive grin on his face.

Mike returned the wave, "Hey, Foxy. You sure seem happy," Mike said. Foxy nodded.

"Aye, that I am! I got ta entertain again!" Foxy cheered. Mike smiled.

"That's good to hear. I assume you like my dad?" Mike asked.

"O'course! He's a fine first mate," Foxy said, and stepped off the stage, walking up to Mike. "What do the others be up to?"

"Freddy's being OCD, as usual, and Bonnie and Chica found a cookbook, so they're trying stuff out," Mike reported. Foxy nodded.

"That sounds nice, it does. Why don' we go visit?" Foxy suggested, and Mike shrugged.

"Fine by me," he replied, and the two of them left out the curtain.

* * *

><p>Upon walking into the Dining Hall, Mike suddenly sniffed the air. He looked at the Kitchen quizzically.<p>

"Is something burning?" Mike asked Foxy. Foxy shrugged.

"I don' know, mate. I can' smell," Foxy replied. In the low light, Mike could see what appeared to be small wisps of smoke.

"Chica's not that bad of a cook, right?" Mike wondered aloud, walking towards the kitchen. Foxy followed him. Sticking his head through the door, he was greeted by a room filled with smoke, an oven ablaze in the corner of the room.

"Holy shit!" Mike exclaimed, coughing, and ran towards the security office. Foxy sprinted after him.

"Wha'? Wha's wrong?" Foxy asked, concerned.

"Fire! Tell the others!" Mike ordered, and Foxy immediately changed direction, lowering his eye patch.

As Mike made for his office, he ran into Bonnie.

"Hi Mike, what's the hurry?" Bonnie asked. Mike brushed by her, not stopping.

"There's a fire!" Mike called back, and ducked into his office.

Sitting in a small locker on the back wall was a fire extinguisher. Mike struggled to open it, none of his keys fitting its lock.

"Damn it! Why the hell!?" Mike shouted, but then stuck his head out right door. "_Bonnie!"_ Mike called, and heard quick, heavy footsteps as the rabbit ran into the room.

"What!?" Bonnie asked, eyes wide. Mike pointed to the fire extinguisher locker.

"Break this open!" Mike ordered. Bonnie nodded, and slammed a fist into the glass as hard as she could.

The glass cracked, but didn't shatter. Bonnie hit it several more times, leaving large dents in the door, and eventually the glass shattered. Mike reached through it and yanked out the fire extinguisher.

New tool in hand, Mike sprinted for the Kitchen, Bonnie right behind. He practically broke the door down by slamming through it, and had the extinguisher aimed and ready. The smoke and heat hit him like a wave, and the guard took a step back. The fire had spread, engulfing the old wooden cupboards that hadn't been replaced.

Coughing hard, Mike aimed the extinguisher at the base of the fire, letting loose a stream of white foam. Slowly, the flames began to wither, and Mike pressed on, getting closer and closer. Before the fire was fully smothered, the extinguisher sputtered, it's supply of fire-fighting foam depleted.

"Shit!" Mike exclaimed, and started coughing hard again. The smoke hung thick as the fire continued to burn, and the guard began finding it hard to see.

Lapsing into another coughing fit, Mike dropped down to try and get below the smoke. He slowly started to crawl backwards, and a hand grabbed his collar, dragging him out into the Dining Hall. It was Bonnie.

"What do we do?" Bonnie asked. Mike didn't want to send the animatronics in, since their suits were definitely flammable. They needed to get help.

"Just stay here, keep an eye on it. Hopefully it'll just stay in the Kitchen. I'm calling the fire department," Mike said, getting up. He hurried to the front desk, grabbing the phone of its cradle. He quickly dialed 911.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Foxy, Freddy, and Chica had been scrambling around Backstage for something to stop the blaze. There was one other extinguisher, located in the maintenance room, but the animatronics didn't know how to use it. Foxy tore open the locker and grabbed it anyway, with the intention of giving it to Mike.<p>

Clutching the extinguisher in his good hand, the fox sprinted back out into the Dining Hall.

"Mike?" Foxy called, looking around, "Where are ya?"

He saw that Bonnie had her head stuck in the doorway of the Kitchen.

"It's getting bigger, Mike!" the rabbit yelled towards the lobby.

Foxy ran for the main entrance, spying Mike speaking intensely.

"Yeah, yeah, Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. What? Oh, uh, 808 Broadway. Yeah, it's a kitchen fire, and our extinguishers are out. Uh huh. Okay, will do, thank you," Mike spoke into the phone, and covered the mouthpiece with his hand. He saw Foxy.

"I foun' this Backstage," Foxy said, holding up the extinguisher. Mike shook his head.

"Too late. Fire department says to get out, it's past the point where they'll work," Mike relayed.

"But we can' go outside," Foxy said, "We're s'posed ta be in our places. What will the firemen say?"

"We gotta take that chance, buddy. It'll be better than frying. Now c'mon, grab the others, we're heading outside," Mike ordered, and returned to the phone. "Yeah, I'm still here. No, I don't know how it started, I was in my office. Uh, no, no, there's no one else here."

Foxy left as Mike continued to talk. Bonnie was still watching the progress of the fire, and turned to Foxy as he walked past.

"It's really bad now," Bonnie reported, "It's burning up the walls." Foxy nodded, and ran for the Backstage, bursting through the door. Freddy and Chica looked up.

"We be jumping ship lads, head fer the lobby," Foxy said, and turned and left. Freddy and Chica looked at each other, wide eyed, but followed.

The animatronics and Mike gathered outside, the smoke starting to spread to other parts of the restaurant. Chica stared at it.

"This is bad," she said. Freddy nodded.

"And that's putting it lightly," he added.

Mike stared at the scene in silence. Smoke was wafting out of the small cracks in the side of the building, and was slowly filling up the main entrance, seeping out of the seams of the door. Sirens could be heard in the distance, and snapped Mike out of his trance.

"Damn! Alright, guys, just freeze like you're onstage, okay? Go off to the side, in a bunch," Mike ordered, pointing to a section of the parking lot.

When the fire truck arrived, Mike flagged them down. The sergeant jogged up to him as the other 3 firefighters jumped off and gathered their gear.

"What's the situation?" the sergeant asked.

"It's in the Kitchen, off to the right once you walk in," Mike explained, "I don't know what's burning, but there's wood and cooking stuff in there, and lots of smoke." The sergeant nodded.

"Alright, we'll take it from here, Mr…?" the sergeant began, looking to Mike for the answer.

"Schmidt. First name's Mike," the guard replied, and the sergeant went back to the truck.

The team quickly hooked up a hose to the tank of the truck and raced inside, equipped with SCBA gear to protect against the smoke.

* * *

><p>Twenty minutes later, and the firefighters walked out of the main entrance, leaving the door open to vent the smoke. The sergeant walked up to Mike, taking off his breathing mask and wiping sweat away with his sleeve.<p>

"Fire's out. Most of the ovens and stuff were damaged by fire and smoke. We found a charred up book next to a pot on a stove. We think it lit up and spread from there. Are you sure you're the only one in here?" the sergeant asked.

"Yeah. Well, aside from these guys, but they don't do much," Mike said, pointing to the Fazbear clan, "I pulled them out so the smoke didn't get them."

The sergeant and the other firefighters looked at the animatronics, and sat on the curb. Mike hooked his fingers in his belt awkwardly as they talked amongst themselves, wiping away sweat and grime.

"Well, thank you, sergeant, I'm gonna check on my friends here," Mike announced, and the sergeant nodded, and laid on his back on the curb, eyes closed.

Mike walked over to Freddy, and on the guise of giving him an inspection, murmured,

"Alright, just keep your cool. They'll probably leave soon, and we'll go from there," Mike told the group. They all nodded slightly, looking like their neck joints slipped.

Several minutes later, and the firefighters left, leaving Mike and the animatronics alone. Freddy turned to Mike.

"This is really, really bad, Michael," Freddy said, worried, "We could be put out of business! We could barely afford to repair the kitchen after the break in!"

"I'm sure this place has insurance, and they'll be able to afford some new appliances. I just don't know where they're going to put them," Mike said, and Chica frowned.

"I'm sorry, guys, I left that book by the stove. I thought it'd be fine," Chica apologized. Mike put a hand on her shoulder.

"It was an accident. At least nobody got hurt," Mike told the chicken. She nodded, then shrugged.

"Well, if the Kitchen's closed, we get the day off tomorrow, I guess," Chica said. Bonnie wasn't as happy.

"But what about the children? Won't they be disappointed?" Bonnie asked.

Foxy, meanwhile, had been looking around, still enthralled by being outside. He noticed a cat slinking down the sidewalk, following it with his head. A car passed by, immediately distracting him, and by the time the fox looked back, the cat was gone.

Eventually, the others were distracted by the outside as well, looking around the large parking lot they were in. Mike watched as they all watched intently a early morning flight streak across the night sky, wingtip lights flashing.

The sky slowly lightened, and Mike sat on the curb as a sedan suddenly tore into the parking lot.

"Guys, freeze!" Mike ordered, and the animatronics stiffened.

Arianna exited the car and slammed the door shut, heading towards Mike with large, angry strides.

"What the hell happened?" Arianna demanded, seeing the animatronics outside.

"There was a fire," Mike explained, and when the manager's gaze hardened, added, "It wasn't my fault, alright? Chica was cooking, it was an accident."

Arianna stared at Mike blankly.

"The hell do you mean 'Chica was cooking'?" Arianna asked. Mike gave her a confused look.

"What do you think I mean?" Mike asked, puzzled, "Chica was cooking." Arianna looked at Mike as if he had just told her the sky was purple.

"Chica doesn't cook," Arianna said, "She's a robot. She doesn't cook."

Mike's eyes widened. She didn't know? How the hell didn't she know?

"You don't know?" Mike asked, astonished.

"Know what?" Arianna questioned, suspicion written all over her face.

"These guys go on free roam at night. That's why I'm here," Mike explained.

"I know that. They just wander around the restaurant mindlessly, I never really looked into it. The other guards hated to talk about it," Arianna said, crossing her arms.

Mike gave her a look of utter bewilderment, and took off his hat, running a hand through his hair. He shook his head.

"I just… You don't… How could you _not know?_" Mike asked, "You run the place."

"What are you getting on about?" Arianna asked.

"Arianna, the animatronics do more than wander around the restaurant after midnight. They're sentient, they make their own decisions. How could you have never known?" Mike asked.

"Oh, God, not you too," Arianna groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose, "All the other guards swore these robots were evil, and alive. I know they've stuffed people in suits, I clean it up, but it's just their programming. They're machines, Schmidt. Look at them now, they're locked up. They don't have programming for anything outside. I will give you one thing, good thinking getting them out."

"_They _walked out. And they're faking. C'mon guys, I guess say hi to the boss," Mike said, astounded he had to make introductions twice.

Freddy turned to Arianna and tipped his hat, smiling.

"Well, I'm surprised I've never had the pleasure. Freddy Fazbear, at your service, ma'am," Freddy said politely.

Foxy crossed his arms and gave a nod.

"Aye, lass, it be a fine greeting from me as well," he said.

Chica turned as well and shrugged.

"Hey," she said simply.

Bonnie gave a little wave, smiling.

"Hi, boss! I can't believe we've never talked to you before!" Bonnie greeted happily.

Arianna stared, and for the first time, Mike saw a different emotion on her face besides contempt. Mike chuckled.

"I mean, seriously, you've worked her for how long? And you never knew this," Mike said, also crossing his arms.

Arianna kept staring, shocked, and Freddy began to look at her with concern.

"Ma'am? Are you okay? Don't be upset, I'm sorry the fire occurred, but it was an accident," Freddy told the manager.

This seemed to jolt her out of her stupor, and she turned to Mike.

"You, me, chat, _now,_" she ordered, and dragged him around the side of the building. Mike spread his arms.

"What?" Mike asked.

"What did you do to them? Huh? This some kind of sick joke? Because if you screwed with my animatronics, so help me…" Arianna threatened.

"I didn't do shit, Arianna," Mike replied, "They've been that way since the place opened."

"They're _robots,_" Arianna hissed, "They're not supposed to be able to do that!"

"Well they can, and they do. It's their A.I., it was built to learn, apparently. And they learned how to think for themselves," Mike explained, "And don't you _dare_ try and 'fix' it."

"But that means those guards they killed…" Arianna began.

"It was programming. Blah, blah, blah, they don't do it anymore, and they feel bad," Mike said, exasperated, "Not like you care about us guards anyway. You knew they did that, and you didn't tell us shit. Now can we focus on the fact this place almost burnt down?"

"_Fine._ Let's go," Arianna said, and walked back around to the front of the building. The animatronics watched them walk up.

"So. Mike in trouble?" Chica asked, grinning.

"No, but I got to figure this mess out," Arianna told her, "Go back inside, looks like the smoke's cleared out."

The animatronics acknowledged, and went back into their places. Arianna turned to Mike.

"Go home. I'll call you if I need you," she said, and followed the robots back inside.

"Whatever," Mike said to himself, and headed for the bus stop.

* * *

><p>Mike was woken up by his phone ringing. It was around 5:30 in the evening.<p>

"Hello?" Mike answered.

"Hey, Schmidt. Look, here's the deal. Insurance covered the damaged stuff, but we can't use the actual room the Kitchen is in yet, and we can't afford to be closed. We're going to use Pirate's Cove," Arianna told him.

"What about Foxy?" Mike asked.

"Yeah, here's the thing. He's done. We're 'retiring' him. We can't keep him in the Cove with the cooks, and there's nowhere else for him to be," Arianna explained bluntly.

"No! You can't! What about Backstage?" Mike asked.

"We're using it for food storage," Arianna replied, "Look, alright, it was bound to happen sometime."

"You _cannot_ scrap Foxy," Mike pleaded, "What if I took him? Kept him with me until the Kitchen's back to normal? You just found out he's sentient!"

There was a pause as Arianna thought Mike's offer over.

"Fine. It'll be for at least an entire week until we can move back. And don't screw this up. You can pick him up after your shift," Arianna agreed, and hung up.

Relief shot through Mike. Foxy was safe. And now he had a new roommate.

_**A/N: Welcome to the final non-epilogue chapter of Night Four. I have some bad news. Normally, it would be good news, considering what I'm about to tell you, but the reason as to why I'm telling you makes it bad news. My "secret project" is against FanFiction Terms of Service. It's a Choose Your Own Adventure set during the events of my first story, "Foxy's Freedom." One of my beta-readers pointed that out to me, and I don't want my account banned. I'm incredibly disappointed, since the reason of my lapse in updates was because I was putting all time into it. It wasn't finished, but still. I want to apologize to you guys for hyping it so much, then essentially giving you the finger. I don't blame any of you if you decide to stop following me, or anything, since that's a really dick move. I'll try and do something special, but I haven't a clue as to what. Maybe I'll put all my stories into one big collection that people can read all at once, cleaning up a few continuity errors and such. Shitty consolation prize, I know. If anyone has an interesting idea, share it! Tell me what you guys want to make up for it. As long as it's not money or sexual favors. **_

_** While that sucks, at least I can tell you one good thing: this series is probably going to go beyond seven nights, since I still keep coming up with ideas. I also want to admit that I'm not the first person to make an animatronic a house guest of Mike's, there are a few other stories that did it first (and most likely better.) I'm sorry, again, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Next story is already underway, and I'll be uploading as much (quality) stuff as I can as yet another apology. I'm bummed, but I still love my series, and my readers (not in a gay/straight way, as friends. Non-committed friends I would probably not invite to my house.) Have a good one! –DeltaV "I mean, who ACTUALLY READS the Terms of Service? Lawyers?" **_


	6. Epilogue

Epilogue: "Roommateys"

When Mike returned to the restaurant for the start of his shift, he came early. There was a note on the door, and a rentable moving truck parked in the parking lot. The guard grabbed the note.

_Schmidt, _

_ Truck Foxy to wherever the hell you're going to put him once your shift is done. You have that truck for a week. Don't take it as a kind gesture, you'll need it because you're still the guard. Don't mess this up. _

_-Arianna_

Mike sighed once he read it. Of course he was still the guard, but at least he had the truck. He crumpled the note up in his hand and unlocked the main entrance. The door to the Kitchen had "No Entry" sign posted on the front, and the door was discolored. Mike opened it and looked inside.

The back wall was charred black, as were the ovens and cupboards that had been caught in the fire. Some of the appliances that had apparently escaped damage were gone, and Mike assumed they were already in Pirate's Cove. Foxy was most likely not going to be happy.

Leaving the devastated Kitchen, Mike headed for the Cove to see what was up. There were still several minutes before the animatronics entered free roam, so the guard had time to get a non-biased opinion. The curtains had been taken down, leaving the new interior exposed. Extension cords ran out of the opening, stretching along the wall and connecting to several outlets scattered throughout the restaurant. The inside was still really dark, and Mike couldn't see much more than a few large silhouettes from what had to be the equipment from the Kitchen. But Foxy couldn't be seen. Curious as to what happened to him, Mike grabbed his flashlight from the office and switched it on, panning the beam around the large, dark room.

The stage hadn't changed, the treasure chest was still there, but a lot of the floor space was covered by stuff from the Kitchen, with appliances, counters, wires and tubes quickly jury-rigged to work in the space. Mike kept searching, and finally found Foxy. He was in the corner furthest from the door, and covered with a drop cloth, apparently to keep him from creeping out the workers. The guard yanked it off, tossing it to the floor, and headed to the Dining Hall to meet the animatronics once they reactivated.

Soon, Mike's watch went off, signifying it was now midnight, and Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica climbed off the stage.

"Hey guys," Mike greeted. Freddy nodded seriously.

"Hello Michael. What's the situation? What's going on to Pirate's Cove?" Freddy asked.

"They're using it as a temporary kitchen until the main one gets fixed," Mike explained.

"What about Foxy?" Bonnie asked.

"Yeah, here's the thing-," Mike began, but fast clanking footsteps cut him off.

Foxy ran angrily into the Dining Hall, clutching the drop cloth that had covered him in his good hand.

"Wha' do they be doin' to me cove!?" Foxy demanded, "Wha' be the meanin' of coverin' me up?"

Foxy started tearing the drop cloth to pieces furiously.

"Foxy, relax, alright? I need to tell you something," Mike said, dodging flying pieces of fabric. Foxy stopped and looked at him, still scowling. Mike continued.

"They're using the Cove as a temporary kitchen, and they're taking you out of it. But the thing about that is-," Mike once again tried to explain.

Foxy eyes widened.

"Wha'!? They're gettin' rid o' me!? Those dirty, rotten, bilge drinkin'…" Foxy annihilated the drop cloth, and Mike tried to get his attention.

"Foxy, calm down, they're not getting rid of you!" Mike shouted. Foxy paused halfway through biting another piece of cloth in half.

"They're no'?" Foxy asked, pulling the cloth out of his mouth.

"Well, technically, they were going to, but I convinced them that I could store you until they were finished," Mike explained.

All previous anger Foxy had dissipated immediately, and he dropped the tattered remains of the drop cloth.

"Wha' does that mean?" Foxy asked. Mike ran a hand through his hair.

"Well…" he began.

* * *

><p>Mike had locked up twenty minutes before six, loading Foxy into the truck and using the extra time to have an easier time getting the pirate into his apartment. He hadn't thought the plan through all that much, more focused on making sure Foxy wouldn't be thrown out.<p>

Mike's apartment wasn't all that big, and it was on the second floor of the complex he was in. If he waited until his shift was over, then he'd have to find a way to get the big metal fox up the stairs by himself.

The truck rocked on its wheels again, Foxy anxiously pacing back and forth. He was outside again, and better yet, he was _allowed_ outside. The idea of seeing where Mike lived was incredibly exciting! The guard pounded on the wall separating the cabin from the cargo bay.

"Knock that off! I'm driving!" Mike called through. Foxy snickered to himself, and started to rock the truck back and forth, managing to get one of the rear wheels off the ground.

"Jesus, Foxy, stop! You'll make me crash!" Mike shouted again. The guard got his revenge at a red light, where he pumped the brakes hard at the last second, throwing Foxy off his feet.

The loud crash that sounded from the back of the truck startled the one other driver on the road, who was next to the truck at the light, and she rocketed away once the light turned green. Foxy got up and pounded on the front of the cargo bay.

"Ye did tha' on purpose!" Foxy shouted to the guard, who smiled smugly to himself, and continued on to his home.

* * *

><p>There was ten minutes left to get Foxy inside before six o'clock made him lock up, and thankfully no one was around. Mike walked around and unlocked the back of the truck As he lifted the door slowly to be quiet, a metal hand grabbed the bottom, and threw it upwards, slamming it against the housing of the truck. The bang echoed in the empty parking lot, and Mike tensed. Nobody complained.<p>

Foxy stepped out, and looked around, large grin on his face.

"So this be yer port o' call," he said, head swiveling.

"Yeah, sure. Come on, let's go," Mike said, and led the fox to the entrance. Using his key to unlock it, he opened the door slowly, finding the hallway empty. He indicated Foxy to follow, and be quiet, and headed for the stairs.

Foxy's metal feet clunked loudly on the wooden floor, leaving scratches on its finish. Since Mike lived on the second floor, he decided there would be no point in risking using the more traffic-heavy elevator. For a second Mike was worried the robot would struggle on the steps, but he didn't need to. Foxy climbed a little bit slowly, and kept his eyes glued to the next step, but there was no difficulty.

They made it into his apartment with just two minutes left, and Mike quickly moved Foxy into the furthest room away from the entrance. The guard reached up and patted the fox on the shoulder.

"Alright, have a good snooze, I'll see you at midnight," Mike said, and headed for his bed, flopping down. As he laid there, he became aware of a presence watching him, and looked up. Foxy was standing in the doorway, glowing eyes looking at him expectantly.

"So, wha' do we be doin'?" Foxy asked.

"Aren't you supposed to shut down at six?" Mike asked. Foxy shook his head.

"No' if we're ou'side tha restaurant," the fox explained. Mike swore.

"Figures. Well, entertain yourself, I'm beat," Mike said, waving the fox away. He didn't move.

"I don' know wha' ta do," Foxy said simply, and Mike ran a hand over his face.

"Alright, fine, follow me," Mike said, and walked into the small living room.

He sat the fox down on the couch, which groaned in protest at the weight, and turned on the television. He flicked through channels, seeing mostly infomercials, until a kid's cartoon about pirates came on.

"Stop!" Foxy ordered, holding up his good hand, "Wha' was tha' one?"

"It's a kid show about pirates," Mike said. Foxy turned to Mike.

"Well put it back," Foxy ordered.

"Seriously?" Mike asked.

"Aye. Put it back," Foxy said again.

Mike nodded, and turned back to the channel, watching with slight bemusement as Foxy stared, fascinated, on the images on the screen.

"I'm going to bed. Don't break anything," Mike said.

Foxy waved his hook dismissively, unblinking gaze locked to the screen. Mike went into his room and fell asleep.

* * *

><p>For over two hours, Foxy stared at the pictures on the television. Never before had he seen anything quite like this. There weren't any televisions at the pizzeria, so this was some brand new territory. And he liked it.<p>

Eventually, the colorful cartoon characters were replaced by real people, and Foxy quickly became bored. It just wasn't as interesting. Then the doorbell to Mike's apartment rang, and Foxy snapped his head to face the front door. Nothing happened, and Mike didn't stir, even as the doorbell rang again.

Not wanting to wake Mike this early, Foxy decided to see what that was about. He opened the door a crack. A bored-looking delivery man holding a package and clipboard stood just outside.

"You Mr… Schmidt?" the man asked, not looking up from his clipboard.

"Er… Aye," Foxy replied. The man handed him the clipboard and a pen, pulling up another piece of paper and looking through it.

"Sign here," the man said.

Foxy took the clipboard and studied it, opening the door up all the way so he could grab it. Balancing it on his hook, Foxy took the pen and wrote "Mike" in large, scratchy letters at the bottom of the page, and handed it back.

The delivery man again took it and studied it without looking up.

"Alright, enjoy your package," the man said disinterestedly, and turned and strode away. Foxy leaned out and waved.

"Thank ye, lad!" he called, and grabbed the box, closing the door before the man turned at the odd phrasing.

Tossing the box onto a table, Foxy returned to the couch, and the television. Mike could be heard snoring through the closed door.

Another hour or so passed, and Foxy began to feel restless, and wanted to explore. He opened the front door to Mike's apartment, and stuck his head out, looking left and right.

Seeing nobody around, the fox stepped into the hallway, leaving the door open behind him. A dinging sound caught his attention, and he headed in the direction of the noise. It was the elevator, which doors were closing right as Foxy walked up.

He studied the metal doors curiously, since they didn't match the rest of the building.

"Now what do these be?" Foxy wondered aloud, and the dinging sound went off again, and the elevator doors slid open. Inside was a woman, completely laden with grocery bags, many of which she carried in her arms, in front of her face. She struggled to look around them, and walked into Foxy, tripping and dropping several bags.

"Damn it! Sorry!" she apologized, and awkwardly tried to pick up the fallen bags. Foxy cocked his head curiously, and picked them up.

"Don' worry about it, lass, I'll get 'em. Where we be takin' 'em?" he asked, snagging the bag's handle with his hook.

"That's really nice of you! Just to my room, thank you!" the woman replied, and led the way, awkwardly trying to see around her load.

"You know, you talk weird. You from Scotland?" the woman asked.

"No," Foxy replied flatly. What was a Scotland?

"Oh. Huh," the woman said. They reached her door, which was several doors down from Mike's, and she fumbled in her pocket for the key. Retrieving it, she unlocked it and stepped inside.

"You can just set it on the table," the woman said, walking over to her fridge.

"Alrigh'" Foxy replied, doing as asked, watching as the woman set down her bags as well. Relieved of the weight of the groceries, she turned to Foxy.

"Thank you again, I-," she stopped midsentence and stared, wide-eyed at the fox. Foxy looked behind him, turning his head almost entirely around before looking back, concerned.

"Wha'?" Foxy asked, wondering what she was staring at. The woman began backing away.

_Not this again_, Foxy thought, and he put up his hands and stepped back as well.

"I'm goin', I'm goin'," Foxy said, not wanting a repeat of the last time, and sprinted back to Mike's apartment, closing the door before the woman could react.

She dashed out and looked down the hall, but saw that it was empty. She stared for almost a minute in complete silence before closing her door, making sure to lock it. She shook herself.

"Was that even real?" she wondered aloud. Now she wanted to find out.

* * *

><p>When Mike woke up around one in the afternoon, he found Foxy still staring into the television.<p>

"Enjoy the show?" Mike asked.

"Aye," Foxy replied, turning to the guard.

"Thanks for behaving, bud. You just sat here, right?" Mike asked.

"O'course! I learned me lesson, Mike," Foxy lied. Mike studied him, and Foxy grinned back.

"Alright," Mike said. Foxy turned back to the television.

"Oh, there be a parcel for ye," Foxy said, pointing to the table. Mike saw the box, and picked it up. He looked at Foxy.

"Uh huh, and how did you get this?" Mike asked, suspicious.

"Lad left it in front o' tha door," Foxy replied.

"Okay. I trust you. For now," Mike said. Foxy turned and grinned at him.

"C'mon, Mike, we be roommateys!" Foxy said.

"What?" Mike asked.

"Roommateys!" Foxy said enthusiastically, and turned back to the television. Mike ran a hand through his hair. It was just another day for him.

_**A/N: Hey howdy hey, ladies and germs! So yeah, that wraps up Night Four! The amount of support I've received from you guys regarding my last Author's Note was really amazing. I know I say it a lot, but I am seriously lucky to have fans like you. Some good news: I'm not going to give up on my CYOA, and now that you guys know about it, I can be much more open about it. The plan is to upload it on a totally unrelated account here, and see how long it lasts. If it gets pulled, I'll give it a more permanent stay somewhere else, but I would really love it to be on here. We'll see how it goes. I have the introductory chapters and decisions completed thus far, and the main plot is getting underway. **_

_**UPDATE: Submissions are NO LONGER being accepted, that's why the rules and stuff went away. The winners have already been told, and will be announced to the world at the end of the first chapter of Night Five. If you did not receive a message saying you won, I'm afraid that, well, you didn't. Thank you to everyone who submitted, and congratulations to the winners. **_

_**Okay, that's all. Well, except for a selfish question: how's the fan art going? I'm excited to see what people more talented than me (that whole "cheese cube" Chica thing in Night Three? True story.) Don't feel rushed, I'm just curious, since to me, it's the coolest thing ever! I also had a thought: (again, this real conceited), If anyone ever makes a fanfic based on THIS fanfic, what would that be? A fan-fanfic? A FFF? I was actually wondering if anyone's ever done that for anything. I think UH-60 Nightstalker had that. That's pretty cool, he has great stories. Not hinting anything, guys, just curiosity at its finest.**_

_** Also, another quick thing: I know Bonnie's actually canonically a guy, but I uploaded my first story before I knew about that, and it ruined my character of (in this case) her. Sorry if that irks some of you, but couldn't be helped. **_

_**Yeah, this got pretty self-centered at the end. Sorry, but I'm an actor. I love attention. But enough about me, it's you guys that make this great. One of my absolute favorite things is being able to entertain people, and I can say mission pretty much accomplished with this series so far. Thank you for reading, reviewing, tattooing passages from my stories onto your back and ending up wasting almost 200 dollars because the guy thought you said "Fuckly" as opposed to "Foxy," or whatever it is you guys do when I update. Have a good one! –DeltaV (Yeah, I brought that closer _**back. It's my favorite.)**_ **_


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